


Playing games

by Mm_jay



Series: Mystrade one shots [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Before Christmas, Board Games, Coming Out, M/M, Taboo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:33:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mm_jay/pseuds/Mm_jay
Summary: It starts with a normal taboo game and so much comes to light!>>Mycroft could see in Greg's eyes how focused he was and the older Holmes brotherjust wanted to get started, but when Greg opened his mouth everything was a littlebit different.<<





	Playing games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrynTWedge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrynTWedge/gifts).



> Hey...  
> I just wanted to share this little (Mystrade) game night with you all!  
> It is not very Christmas, but it plays on the days before the holidays. I hope it meets your expectations and you enjoy reading.
> 
> Thanks again, dear Cindy <3, for helping me with the English language.... ;-) !

"How in the world should I know what the 'Guess word' is, Sherlock?" John grumbled.

For the third time, he had missed his attempt to discover the correct concept of the game of Taboo he played with Sherlock, Mycroft and Greg in the middle of the livingroom of their Baker Street flat, just before the Christmas holidays.

How it all started, the ex-army soldier was no longer quite sure.  
But it was clear that neither Sherlock nor Mycroft Holmes said "no" when it came time to play a competitive board game.

The Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard more or less accidentally landed there and was forced to stay ... because you needed a fourth man to team up. It quickly became clear which direction this duel of the two geniuses would lead. John knew it would not end well for him or for Greg. Why did Sherlock come up with the glorious idea of hosting a game night with his brother?

"You just had to open your eyes and activate your gray brain cells, John!", the man with the curly head of hair complained. "Or is expecting to know what a black shirt looks like asking too much?" John was noticeably annoyed by the overbearing nature of the consulting detective. They often had such disputes, it seemed.

"If the gentleman would be so kind," the doctor began to say, annoyed, but still with decency, "to explain to me what a black shirt has to do with the correct answer in the game?" 

Sherlock looked down at his friend as if John had asked why people in society were wearing clothes. The disappointment of the genius, about this ignorance, was palpable.  
"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock replied with the greatest boredom in his baritone voice.

Even before John could give an equally mocking answer, Mycroft had grabbed the card from Sherlock's hand and said, "It's either the lack of your drawing talent, or your exaggerated idea of John's ability to understand you, brother-mine!" A smug grin crossed his face. "But let me just show you how to play this game!"  
The older Holmes brother reached for a blank sheet of paper and a pencil. "I do not think anyone would mind if Gregory and I demonstrate how it's done?! " His eyes sparkled with glee at Sherlock. "Are you ready, Inspector?", he asked with such self-confidence that it hurt everyone's ears.

"Uh, yes...sure. Ready when you are!" The silver fox licked his lips in concentration, leaning forward to the table, keeping Mycroft's hands in view all the time. The slender fingers of the parliament worker had drawn a burning ring that was in a speech bubble, over the head of a singing matchstick-man.

It was not long before Greg shouted, "Ring of fire!" And shortly afterwards, "Johnny Cash!" The very satisfied and smug grin from Mycroft suggested that this point went to his  
team!

"Wait a minute ... what?", Dr. Watson said. "What was the correct answer now?" He blinked his eyes several times incredulously.

"Johnny Cash was the answer, my dear Doctor!" replied the elder Holmes brother with glee and pride.

"Sherlock .... why did you want to draw a fucking black shirt then?" John asked in annoyance.

"Everyone knows that Johnny Cash always wore black shirts! You had to realize that, it was more than clear!" the consulting detective replied with the utmost conviction.

"What's clear, is the fact that I'll punch you for your stupid art!" the doctor argued.

"Guys...What matters now is that I guessed it correctly!" Greg added enthusiastically.

"You two do know that it doesn't count now, correct?!" The Detective Inspector stared at the young man named Sherlock. In the warm brown eyes of the DI, the annoyed genius read a clear *Excuse me, please? *  
Shortly thereafter, the expected question followed: "What are you talking about?" from the silver haired man.

And so Sherlock began to explain, "It was just a test run for your team! My dear brother just wanted to rub my nose in it again, that he will win this game with ease -which will not be the case - but that's not the point! The fact is, the card had already been played by us and therefore your small victory is invalid. It's as simple as that!!!"

Greg pulled a face and pouted, while Mycroft remained unimpressed.

"Oh Sherlock, do you think that makes us fall behind? With my intellect and Gregory's creativity and attention, we beat you three times!" Mycroft said. He only earned a snort from his younger brother and an eye roll from John.

"When you two are done with your childish quarrels, can we move on?" John asked the Holmes brothers. "I want to finish the game sometime today, because I'm getting hungry!" And he looked down sympathetically at his stomach, where his hand rested.

"That's fine by me!" Sherlock defiantly returned. "I think it's *Team Fatty's* turn then!" And he could not resist a mischievous smile at his insult of his brother.

"Fine." Mycroft repeated, glaring at Sherlock. "Get ready to lose, brother-mine!" The two geniuses stared at each other provocatively. It was just seconds, but it felt like minutes in which neither John or Greg dared to say anything.  
"Gregory, have a throw and start!" Mycroft ordered his teammate rather brusquely.

*There will be dead and injured today!* The Inspector from Scotland Yard thought to himself, but he did as he was told.

Greg's dice indicated a four and he moved the tile four spaces on the field. He pulled out one of the playing cards and looked at his Guess word, to be certain that he did not use any of the forbidden words. John sat by his side so that he had a good look at the words too. The time keeping hourglass was turned over.  
Mycroft could see in Greg's eyes how focused he was and the older Holmes brother just wanted to get started, but when Greg opened his mouth everything was a little bit different.

"Well, yes ... so," Greg stumbled with the words. "Um ..."

"What is it? Don't you know the word?" Mycroft wanted to know impatiently. "If not, just take the next one! It can't be that hard."

"He knows the word!" John briefly interjected.

"Of course I know the word!" Greg defended.

"What is the problem then?" Sherlock was also calling for the game to progress.

"There is no problem, okay ?!" the DI grumbled.

"Then start, in the name of God!!! The time is running!" the parliament worker complained. Mycroft could get irritable when he was annoyed.

"Uh ... yeah ... but ...".

A pause. 

The Detective Inspector started to blush in embarassment, while Mr. Mycroft Holmes became more and more impatient and finally he blurted out, "What's wrong with you Gregory, why are you stalling so much?" You could tell how much Mycroft was trying to win ... especially because it was a match against his younger brother. The otherwise calm and cool eyes of the genius literally flamed up with rage. 

"Um, I'm sorry Myc.... really!" Greg apologized, hurt. John had briefly startled at the use of the informal nickname of the elder Holmes brother, but ignored it to continue to follow the course of the dispute. Sherlock was focused on the possibility of his brother's defeat and ignored the nickname.

"I swear," cried Mycroft through clenched teet, with his attention fixed on the expiring time. "If you do not start with the clues then ...".  
Mycroft was cut off from further speaking when Greg asked, "What did you say to me last night?"

The room was quiet and time seemed to stand still.

"Excuse me, Inspector?"  
The older Holmes brother tried to defuse the embarrassing situation. "That is a joke, right ?!" It was obvious from the look on his face that the situation seemed to be very unpleasant for him and he began to blush a deep red.  
But it was going to get worse as Greg moved on. 

"No, it's not and you know it too, mister!"  
Mycroft clung to the arms of the chair and his fingers literally bored into the fabric cover. "I'm a thousand percent sure you still remember what you said to me last night in the bedroom. I thought Mycroft Holmes never forgets anything!"

"Detective Inspector!" Mycroft said indignantly.

"Oh come on, Myc! You said to me: 'Should I get my .... out ?!'..." The silver fox looked at the redhead expectantly, but Mycroft just seemed to suffer a brain stroke, at least it seemed so from the outside.

Nobody said anything; no one moved an inch. 

Until John burst into a loud laughter, startling everyone. And then all eyes were on the doctor. "Really? You two?" John could barely stay in his seat from laughing so hard. "The British Government and Scotland Yard ... seriously, mates?"

Mycroft's face looked bright red like a tomato. Distraught, he stared down at his feet. Greg mischievously shrugged his shoulders. His grin said more than a thousand words and he seemed pretty okay with this fact.

Only Sherlock seemed to be dumbfounded.  
"Can someone please tell me what is going on here?" He whined like a five-year-old who was not allowed to play with the older kids. But he was completely ignored by the others ... not on purpose, the subject was just too sensitive.

"So that's what's going on in the bedroom with the British Government!" John's laughter left him out of breath.

"I have no complaints about Myc's governing style..." joked the DI.

"How long has that been going on with you ... I mean I've had suspicions for a while, but....." John was about to get the scoop out of the silver fox, when the  
parliamentary worker began to speak.

"Enough!" he hissed. His ice-blue eyes targeted the army doctor. He looked like a dragon whose friendliness had been over-exploited and who was about to launch a deadly attack."I think this topic really should not be discussed here!" As Mycroft spoke, his watchful eyes glittered at the two babbling men.

"I did not think I would ever say this," Sherlock began, "but I agree with you, brother."  
The curly-haired man gave his older sibling a forced smile before he turned back to Greg: "Even though you might rather keep up your chat with John, I would now like to know what the Guess word is ... even though your time has run out by now! Tell me, which word has cost your team to lose this round?"

John had to suppress his laughter as Greg turned the playing card around with a big smile on his face so that the two Holmes brothers could see it. 

"The word you were looking for was ...>>Magic Wand<<...?" Sherlock did not seem prepared for this answer and sat unmoving, dumbfounded.

Mycroft's complexion had now taken on the tone of crimson. That was clearly too private to share with his brother and his flatmate. Sherlock seemed to be baffled for another moment, until he noticed the meaningful look that Greg cast at his brother.

"WHAT? YOU TWO .....? NO .... No, No, No ..."

The Consulting Detective jumped from his seat to his feet and took several steps away from the game. "NEVER...!" He shook his head hastily so that his chocolate colored curls swirled around him.

Mycroft buried his face in his hands while Greg tried to talk to Sherlock.

"Listen mate, what I have with your brother is not a game to me ... it's a serious matter for both of us. I truly love Mycroft from the bottom of my heart," the DI explained in a soft tone, but it fell on deaf ears because the Consulting Detective could not and did not want to hear this truth.

Instead, he turned on his heel and hurried out of the living room, scrambling over to the kitchen nook where he busied himself with an experiment. Greg released a sigh, somehow he knew Sherlock would react this way. Anything that did not fit into the logic patterns of the genius was simply ignored, even if it meant total disregard of the facts.

Mycroft gave him a knowing look, as if to say, 'I warned you' while John got up from his seat.  
"I'll check on him ... does anyone else want a hot chocolate?" he asked, mentally preparing himself for a complicated conversation with his 'oh-so-genius' flatmate.

'Dear God', he thought to himself. 'It's going to be a crazy Christmas this year ... !!!'

\-------------The end--------------------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> Ok ... did you like it? Then please leave me your opinion as a little comment and I thank everyone who has taken the time to read this one-shot storie!  
> Best regards,  
> MJ <3


End file.
